


Cherry Picker

by themunchking



Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternative Universe - College, Choking, Cuckolding, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Sexual Humiliation, Something for everyone basically, Suggested infidelity but it’s actually just miscommunication, Switching, ultimate frisbee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themunchking/pseuds/themunchking
Summary: Johnny has a crush on Mark. Too bad Mark already has the perfect boyfriend in Kim Jongin.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Mark Lee (NCT), Kim Jongin | Kai/Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 32
Kudos: 367





	Cherry Picker

**Author's Note:**

> At the end of the day, this fic is an act of self care, but you should all thank Cricket for encouraging it 
> 
> I’m squishing the age difference for convenience—Johnny and Jongin are the same age (college Seniors, so 21-22ish); Mark is a Junior. Who can also legally drink and go to bars? Don’t think too hard about it. If you’re sensitive to topics of “infidelity” there’s more explanation at the end*

  


Mark Lee is perfect. 

Perfection is subjective to the eyes of the beholder, and all that, but to Johnny’s totally objective gaze, Mark Lee is factually perfect. 

He’s smaller than Johnny, but not by much. He looks tiny in photos, probably because of his habit of wearing baggy clothes two sizes too big, but in real life, he’s not that short at all. And because Johnny spends way too much of his life staring at him, he knows that Mark’s nose also crinkles in the most adorable way when he laughs, which is often. 

Including at Johnny’s jokes. Really, Johnny can’t get through a full thought without Mark snickering in the background. Would he want it any other way? Hell no. 

Mark is a lightweight, and a sleepy drunk. He’ll lean on whoever’s shoulder is closets and stay there like it’s a hot piece of real estate. Of course he’s adorable when he’s tired, too, or just dressed-down in comfortable sweats and his round-frame glasses. 

Not only is he adorable, but he’s also insanely talented. They make music together in Johnny’s bedroom sometimes, and Mark has an eye for lyrics and melodies that Johnny is insanely jealous of. 

So yeah. Johnny’s got a bit of a crush on Mark Lee. 

(“A _bit?”_ Ten snorts. “Dude. You’ve got it so bad. I’m embarrassed for you and I’m just watching from a distance.” 

“Don’t be a dick, Ten.” Taeyong gives Johnny a pitying look, “but he’s kind of right.”) 

It all started half a year ago, when Mark rolled up to Ultimate boot camp in the middle of August looking nothing like the squirrelly Sophomore he’d been last year. Instead, he had a defined chin line and, well, neck veins. Veins that stood out when Mark worked out in the weight room, when he was straining to catch a pass. 

Since then, Mark’s done more than graduate from Johnny’s adorable younger brother on the Ultimate team. He’s laughed his dorky way straight into a tender place besides Johnny’s heart. 

So yes, Johnny Suh has a problem. 

Mark Lee is perfect. And he has a perfect boyfriend to go along with him. 

  


-

  


The first day Johnny saw them together is burned into his mind. It’s difficult to forget the feeling of your heart being dumped in an ice bath. 

It was a simple, ordinary afternoon, and Johnny was well on his way to spending way too much money at Target on shit he absolutely didn’t need. He saw Mark at the end of an aisle, looking at _sheets_ of all things, and was about to open his mouth when a second figure came up to Mark first—

And put his arm around his shoulder like it belonged there. Leaned in close to Mark’s ear. Pointed at something for Mark to look at and watched his face carefully for his reaction. 

If Johnny had seen Mark at a party with someone, that would be one thing. That could be a hookup, nothing serious or long-term. But this was at _Target._ A Target shopping experience is a serious date, a cherished piece of domesticity for established couples. 

And this guy was more than just a date. He was, well, gorgeous. Tall and muscular, with an insane waist, and pretty, pillowy lips. The kind of guy you would believe could get scouted for a modeling agency while waiting at the DMV. 

Luckily, before he could make a fool of himself, Johnny was able to duck into the next aisle over and pretend he wanted a new mop, and that his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest. 

It didn’t take long, just a few texts, really, to come up with a name. 

Kim Jongin.

  


-

  


It will be awhile until they’re properly introduced, but Johnny’s first time meeting Jongin is all because of Sehun. It happens like this: 

On a random Sunday afternoon, meaning there’s no frisbee practice, Sehun sends him an esoteric text, the kind that would be utterly indecipherable to people who haven’t known Sehun for years like he has. But as it happens, Sehun is just inviting him over to hang out, waste some hours, and smoke weed. 

The first thing Johnny hears upon letting himself into Sehun’s apartment is the unmistakable high-pitched cackle of Mark’s laugh. It’s familiar in how unguarded it is, how much it’s a sheer unleashing of joy. 

Johnny comes into the living room through the entryway and is greeted with a wall of laughter—and the sight that’s causing them. From what Johnny can tell, Byun Baekhyun is doing an impression of his thesis advisor, a notoriously cranky old man with batshit insane habits, including drinking watered-down oatmeal from a straw every morning lecture. 

Personally, Johnny doesn’t even know the man, just heard the rumors. But with how Baekhyun acts out the impression, it’s not even necessary to laugh along with the joke. 

From across the room, Mark still catches his eye. 

_Hi,_ he mouths, while everyone else is distracted. His smile is bright, his eyes shining. For a shining second they share the moment between themselves. It’s enough to ignore the way Mark is nestled into someone else’s side on the couch, how this person’s hand is curled around Mark’s thigh—and not even the thigh closest to him, but the one on Mark’s other side, so that he’s blocked behind the person’s whole arm. Not that he seems to mind; Mark’s hands are cradled around his boyfriend’s biceps. 

Yeah. This person looking so effortlessly beautiful on the couch, in nothing more than ripped jeans and a plain shirt, is Marks’ perfect boyfriend. Jongin. 

They make the perfect picture sitting together. They’re the kind of couple that makes everyone else seem like they’re intruding, even when they’re in public. 

Johnny makes himself comfortable on a stool—Sehun has a lot of things in his apartment that _look_ like furniture, but actually aren’t, and the other way around. There are some other people here, a couple of whom Johnny knows, along with several he doesn’t. 

He prides himself on not being awkward in any kind of social situation, but it’s hard to speak and be friendly when you’re focused on something else—namely, Mark. 

How long have they been together? Jongin and Mark look so natural together, so comfortable. They also always seem to need to be in physical contact at all times, and crisscrossed in elaborate ways at that. 

And while Mark is focused on whatever drama is playing out in the room, there’s still a piece of Jongin that is dedicated entirely to Mark—smiling when he smiles, telling him little inside jokes at the right opportunity. And Mark looks so happy and relaxed, too. 

Johnny is jealous. Johnny is viciously, hideously jealous. 

A joint being passed around makes its way to him. Thank god for that. 

Someone nudges his shoulder—it’s Sehun, aka Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome himself. He jerks his head towards the kitchen. “I’ve got snacks,” he says, “you want snacks?” 

Sehun always has a stocked kitchen, because he also has a steady but undefined stream of income that may or may not involve shady behavior on Cash App. 

“You know Mark?” Sehun raises one of his perfect brows. His gaze implies a lot of things, like _you were being pretty obvious with your staring, bud,_ and, _I can tell from the apartment next door you’ve got a crush, and my dude, you may be fucked._

But he doesn’t say any of that out loud, because Sehun is a good friend, more considerate than people often give him credit for, and thus Johnny is going to ignore all of those implications. 

“Yeah, of course. He’s on the frisbee team. I’m surprised _you_ know him.” 

“Hmmm, yeah, I should’ve known that. But obviously I know him—he’s Jongin’s boyfriend.” 

“You’ve even been to games,” Johnny points out. Sehun shrugs and pops another Hint of Lime chip into his mouth. “How am I supposed to pay attention when there are so many hot men around? You know, they should really rename these to just lime chips. There’s nothing ‘hint’about them.” 

“I know,” Johnny says, agreeing to the chip part. “Write to Tostitos and make it happen, pretty boy. But when did—uh—when did they get together? I didn’t even know who Jongin was until recently.” There was definitely no boyfriend in the picture at the end of last year, when it was just Mark’s gaggle of friends in the stands for him. But he thinks of how Mark’s transformed over the summer, and it seems idiotic to think no one else would notice, too. 

“The very end of last semester,” Sehun continues his demolition of the aggressively-limey chips. “They met during Do-Gooders Anonymous or something.” 

“How would that be anonymous?” 

“Ok, fair. No, they seriously met at the library because they’re both soft-hearted nerds.” Johnny can’t speak to Jongin, but yeah, Mark does fit that description. “They were making eyes at each other over the cubicle, Jongin slid him a note, now here we are.” 

Unbelievable—has Mark been that easy to seduce the whole time? If Johnny had asked him out by writing his confession on the inside of a Taco Bell box, would that have worked? 

“They are cute,” Sehun continues, oblivious to Johnny’s internal crisis. “As is clear from the evidence. Even I have to admit that.” 

If Johnny thinks about this any longer he may pass out. It would be even worse if one of them—Jongin or Mark—walked into the kitchen and overheard them being talked about, which is very possible. 

“You have unrealistically high standards, I know. Are you still trying to bag a sugar daddy on Hinge? Tell me how that’s going.” 

Sehun lights right up. God, he’s so messy. Johnny is so fond of him. 

  


-

  


Johnny’s _real_ introduction to Jongin also happens because of Sehun. There’s a party, and because Sehun is well-connected but also has resting bitch face and is also just really fucking weird, but low key, he usually invites Johnny to most social functions just so he has someone around to be social for him. It’s like being a wingman, but for small talk instead of flirting. 

Johnny doesn’t mind doing this at all. Usually it amounts in all the free beer he can drink, and he’s not going to turn that down for anything. 

And so Johnny ends up at the party, already three beers deep by the time he walks through the door. He doesn’t even bother texting Sehun he’s arrived, because someone stuck a rock in the building’s front door for easy access, and from the noise alone it’s easy to guess the apartment number. 

He spots them out of the corner of his eye while scanning the room for Sehun; Mark and Jongin are standing together in the kitchen, back to chest, with Jongin curled over Mark’s slightly shorter frame. One hand holds a beer, and the other is wrapped around Mark’s waist, his hand curled up under Mark’s shirt. 

From where Johnny stands, he can see Jongin talking in Mark’s ear. Johnny draws closer without realizing it. By the time he gets control of his body again, he’s already drifted into the kitchen properly; it’s too late for him to go back.

“Yo Johnny!” Mark perks up. To Jongin, he says, “this is my friend Johnny,” and suddenly, the two of them are being introduced. Formally. 

Oh, holy shit, is Jongin going to somehow sense that Johnny has a big fat crush on his boyfriend? Hopefully that kind of information isn’t transferable via osmosis, or more likely, isn’t written all over his stupid face. 

But of course, Jongin doesn't scowl or do anything of the sort, because he’s in all actuality a lovely person. He _does_ stick out his hand, which a moment before was under Mark’s shirt, for Johnny. While they shake, Johnny considers whether it would be better or worse if that hand had been down Mark’s pants. 

“Jongin,” Mr. Perfect says. 

“Johnny, as you now know.” 

“Jongin. Johnny,” Mark says. Jongin smiles warmly at the boy cradled in his arms. Johnny takes half a step closer, using the din of the party as an excuse. “That’s nice, I like it.” 

“Rhythmic,” Johnny says, wishing his name were first. 

“Melodic,” Jongin plays along. “Wait, are you friends with Sehun?”

“Yeah, we went to high school together. I think I saw you at his place the other day, actually.”

Jongin directs his pretty face towards him and smiles. “I thought you were familiar-looking.” Somewhere behind Johnny, his eyes catch something. “Oh, is Jongdae about to put on roller skates? His girlfriend will kill me if anything happens to him, I should go stop that.” Reluctantly, he unravels himself from Mark and slips away. Johnny doesn’t watch him go.

“Hey, you want a beer?” Mark says, loose smile still playing on his face. 

“I got it—”

“Nah, here,” Mark hands him the fresh beer in his hand and instead takes Jongin’s abandoned one for himself. 

“Wow, an actual _good_ beer instead of a Natty Light, I’m impressed you were able to find this.” It’s some kind of zangy, tangy, microbrew IPA, which often can be a slippery-slope, but it seems like Mark’s got good taste. 

“Oh we actually brought this and stashed it in a cooler,” Mark laughs. “Jongin like, loves this stuff. I swear he’s turning into such a beer snob.” 

“Someone needs to lead you away from the path of light beers.” Johnny would just rather that person be _him._ Instead, he’s standing here talking to Jongin’s boyfriend, drinking Jongin’s beer that Mark gave him out of his own possession. 

They fall into an easy pattern of conversation, lulled into their own little bubble on the edge of the party. Not once do Mark’s eyes wander behind Johnny to search for another figure in the crowd. It’s easy talking to Mark, easier still to get him laughing. 

He’s adorable when he gets excited, like his body can’t possibly contain his joy and he just ends up bouncing everywhere. 

“Oh hey, you should come to trivia!” Mark’s eyes catch fire when the idea pops into his head. It’s like Johnny can see the exact moment it happens. 

Johnny had no idea Mark would be into a thing like trivia. “Uh?”

“I know,” Mark cackles, like he knows exactly what Johnny’s thinking. “It’s kinda dorky. But that’s also kinda the appeal? If you lean into it, it’s totally fun. It’s Tuesdays at EXO Planet.” 

He knows the bar—it’s kind of a hole in the wall, to be honest, but also suits Mark’s personality perfectly. Really good, a little messy. “I mean, sure, why not?” he finds himself agreeing. Was he ever going to say _no_ to hanging out with Mark? 

“Awesome! It’ll be fun, I promise. Baekhyun—you know him, right?” Yeah, Johnny knows him. Outside of seeing him at Sehun’s it’d be impossible not to notice the BMW idling by the Ultimate practice field sometimes, how Mark always bounds over to it as soon as they’re done. “It’s him, me and Jongin, Taemin, and Yukhei. Yukhei is mostly there for moral support, but Taemin gets so competitive. It’s actually hilarious. Sometimes Ten and Yong come too.” 

Wait a minute, Ten? Johnny’s best friend in the world, that Ten? And Taeyong, his _other_ best friend?

“Damn, I didn’t know you knew them that well.” 

( _When were you going to tell me you guys go to_ trivia _with Mark???_ He texts the next day, when his hangover is digging its way through his skull with a dull spoon. 

_Oh, that? I go to flirt with Baekhyun,_ Ten answers lightning-quick. 

_I really like the pulled-pork nachos there,_ Taeyong supplies.) 

“They’re cool,” Mark shrugs. “I wish I knew them better.” 

“Hey,” Johnny teases, “should I set up a playdate then? Arrange a meet-and-greet for my bros?” 

This sends Mark into another round of giggles. Tragically, they’re cut off short when Jongin slides into frame again, almost from nowhere. 

“Mark, come dance?” he asks with puppy-dog eyes. Fenty-branded sweat clings to his face like a natural highlighter. 

Mark nods, and just like that, Johnny’s lost his attention. Just before he slips out of their little bubble, he calls, “if I don’t see you later, see you Tuesday, swear!” 

“Yeah, I swear,” Johnny mumbles, and then Mark is being led into the throng of people.

He tries not to watch, he really does. Johnny’s eyes are automatically drawn towards Mark, but there’s something magnetic about Jongin and Mark _together,_ a pull of gravity’s forces. Mark can be self-conscious, squirming in his own skin, but Jongin on the dancefloor exudes a confidence that envelopes them both. 

They look so perfect together. They look mind-numbingly hot. 

Johnny has to turn away before his head starts malfunctioning. Fortunately, there’s much more beer to come.

  


He used to be self-conscious like this, but on the dancefloor, Jongin has an aura of impenetrable confidence that can’t even be breached by Mark’s fucked-up self esteem (even though regularly Jongin tells him there’s no reason to be insecure, and that he’s amazing, and beautiful, and a whole range of other things that make every part of Mark’s body flush). 

Back to chest, with Jongin behind him, arms wrapped in front and leading the way, they move along with the rhythm of the music and the rhythm of the room. 

“I invited Johnny to trivia,” Mark says over the noise. Even though it’s loud, it feels like they’re in their own personal bubble here. 

“That’ll be nice,” Jongin hums. “I like him.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

People are looking at them—people always look at them. Jongin’s body, and Jongin’s everything, attracts that kind of attention. 

And honestly? It excites Mark knowing that they are. 

Jongin rocks against him, aiming his hips particularly well and using his hands to guide Mark’s along. He’s reminded of earlier, when they were supposed to be getting ready for this exact party, while Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, and Jongdae were pregaming loudly in the living room down the hall and a door away. Jongin had fucked him bent over the bed, hard and fast because it was all they had time for, Mark biting down on the covers so as to not make a sound. 

Tonight, they won’t duck out early. They’ll stay until the place starts to clear out, and the music slows down, and only then will Jongin push Mark up against a wall to kiss him, dirty and deep, in front of all Jongin’s friends who will take photos for them all to laugh at over breakfast.

Mark tilts his head back onto Jongin’s shoulder, asking for a kiss. 

  


-

  


Jongin living off campus is a blessing. He still has roommates, but four walls of privacy is a blessing compared to Mark’s twin XL dorm bed. Besides, Kyungsoo, is always cooking delicious food and makes a plate for Mark without him having to ask. 

Plus, Mark can get his own key. 

When Mark lets himself in, he finds Jongin splayed out on his bed in his fluffy bear sweatshirt and boxers, that from the size of them, were probably Chanyeol’s to begin with. 

“Feeling soft today, huh?” Mark sets his backpack down gently in the corner. From the bed, Jongin hums in acknowledgement. There’s an open spot on the bed next to him calling his name, so Mark settles down and makes himself comfy. “Hi.” 

“Hi baby.” Jongin’s already done his skincare routine, and his face is shiny with his fresh-smelling moisturizer. Still, looking at him like this flusters Mark’s heart so much he wants to press his face into the bed with embarrassment. He gets this. He really gets this every night. God is he lucky. 

Mark rolls closer, until he’s practically on top of Jongin, their chests pressed together and noses only centimeters apart. The bear hoodie feels so soft and plush under his hands. Mark would barely have to move to kiss him, but he doesn’t, not yet, because they’ve got all the time in the world. It's’ the kind night where time moves extra slow. 

“Did you have a nice day?” he asks, not for small talk, but because he knows that Jongin was wrapped up in one thing after another from morning until dinner. 

“Busy day,” Jongin says with a yawn. Mark does kiss him then, because the way Jongin’s nose scrunches up when he’s tired is too sweet to ignore, like a kitten deserving of a treat. 

It’s light and easy, but with the promise of more. 

“Want you tonight,” Jongin murmurs into Mark’s neck. 

“Ok,” Mark nuzzles into his hair. “Let’s go slow.” 

They do go slow. They unwrap each other with careful touches, peeling back the layers of love-worn clothes turned soft with age. 

It’s been a while since Jongin was on the receiving end of the situation, and he grips so tightly around Mark’s first two fingers that for a moment Mark thinks he’s _too_ tight, that this won’t work. That, still, would be ok though, because there’s nothing wrong at all with rocking against each other until they both get off. 

But with gentle coaxing and twisting of Mark’s fingers, Jongin does loosen up, panting all the while into the crook of Mark’s neck. 

“Please,” he begs, “I’m ready now. Baby, I can’t wait any longer.” 

“Okay,” Mark kisses him. “Lift your leg up for me, kay?” 

Jongin, all the good boy he is, obeys and easily fits his shin somewhere near his ear. “Show off,” Mark laughs, but Jongin just tugs at him needily. 

The angle requires them to go slow, but that’s the mood for tonight, anyways. Mark can go so _deep_ though, and Jongin lets out a strangled moan on the first thrust. 

_Missionary is underrated,_ Mark thinks, pressed chest-to-chest with Jongin. Whoever calls it boring isn’t doing it with the right person, because there could be few things in this world better, hotter, than having Jongin spread out beneath him, exposed and flush with want. 

He clenches down around Mark’s cock, so warm and tight that god, every time, Mark worries if he’s going to last. 

It’s overwhelming. Sex with Jongin is always good, always _amazing_ (truly Mark’s first couple of sexual encounters can’t hold a candle), but like this it’s an all-consuming kind of pleasure. He has to tuck his face low just to bear it. Even just watching Jongin’s face would be too much. 

Like he said—they go slow. Their pleasure builds and builds and builds, and it feels like it’s one, shared experience passing between each other with every thrust of Mark’s cock. It’s in the way Jongin’s thighs begin to quiver, how Mark’s abdomen tightens. 

“Kiss me,” Jongin pleads, voice soft and high. This means he’s close—he’s needy when he’s close. “Tell me—baby, tell me how good it feels.” 

Mark kisses him sloppily, technique gone out the window being so close to the edge himself. “It’s so good,” he promises. “Feel so perfect, honey, love you, love you so much.” 

It’s enough to make Jongin cum with a long moan, spurting seed between them on his belly. Mark fucks him through it, nice and slow. Mark lied, earlier— _this_ is the hottest thing in the world. Jongin with a cock dragging in and out of his hole, fresh cum shining on his belly. 

His plan is to pull out, add to that pretty picture, but Jongin gropes at his ass before he can pull away. “Keep going,” he says, arm thrown over his eyes and panting. From where they are in the air, his toes curl. 

“Mmmh, yeah, ok.” Mark takes that arm and presses it against the bed, entwining their hands together on the bed. “Look at me honey.” 

Jongin opens his eyes, looking up at Mark with a glassy expression and with tiny pricks of tears in the corner from the overstimulation. Now, every thrust has a low, wounded noise coming from his lips. 

_Love you,_ Jongin mouths, loud and clear. 

  


Mark curls himself up first in one of Jongin’s t-shirts, big and comfy, then the bear sweatshirt laying abandoned on the desk chair. Jongin finds him like that when he gets out of the bathroom, boxers slung low on his hips, all the lovely lines of his muscled chest right there for Mark to admire. 

“Ah, cute,” he says, sitting on the bed and ducking in close to press a kiss against Mark’s cheek. Then another, and one on his jaw. 

“Stop,” Mark hiccups, face reddening. Jongin drops another kiss on his neck, right above the collar. 

“Cute, cute, cute,” Jongin says. “What, I can’t tell my baby how adorable he is?” 

“Oh my god,” Mark tries (but of course, not really) to push Jongin away. “You’re so embarrassing.” 

“Aw baby,” Jongin continues, tipping them over so that Mark is lying on his back, Jongin draped over him, kissing at his collarbones. “There’s no one here but me, you can admit that you like it,” he sings. 

“I like _you_ a lot.” 

Jongin props himself up on his elbow. He smiles softly at Mark—and it’s interesting, a problem of physics, how everything in Mark’s world can fit in the less than a foot of space between them. “I like you a lot, too.” 

  


-

  


Tuesday night arrives, fortunately, too quickly for Johnny to worry about it excessively, incessantly. Monday is jam-packed with classes during the day and weight-training for frisbee in the evening, and Tuesday begins with nothing less than an onslaught of assignments. 

By the time Johnny has the time to breathe, it’s already time for him to go home, throw himself in the shower, and get on his way to EXO Planet. 

_If you don’t get here soon trivia will start without you,_ Ten texts. 

_I know, I know, I’m omw,_ Johnny replies as he hurries down the street. Today is another good day to be thankful for his long legs. 

_Mark keeps glancing at the door you know,_ Ten says, adding on the suspicious eyes emoji at the end. Internally, Johnny groans. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to deal with Ten watching him all night. But at the same time, he clings onto this tiny piece of information. 

_Why are you on my side?_ He asks. It doesn’t seem logical that Ten would want Mark and Jongin to break up when he’s apparently better friends with the both of them than Johnny knew. Johnny’s not even sure he wants them to break up—he’s going through a lot of feelings right now. What else is Ten aware of that Johnny’s not? 

_You’re my best friend, idiot. Plus u look ugly when you’re pining._

_They’ll never find your body if I kill u._

_< 3_

As he thought, Johnny is the last to arrive. Everyone is already in what he guesses are their normal spots around a large booth—Mark’s friends Yukhei and Baekhyun splayed out in chairs at the end, with Taemin, Taeyong, Mark, Jongin, and Ten in the booth. There’s a space next to Ten at the end—Johnny-sized.

Mark lights up as soon as he sees him. “Johnny! You came!” 

“I literally told you he was coming,” Ten rolls his eyes. “Did you not believe me?” 

“Sorry I’m late. Things were—” he waves his hand about his head in a way that hopefully communicates the innate chaos of the universe, “hectic today.” 

As fellow students, everyone agrees. 

“I hope you’re ready for competition,” Taemin says in a way that sounds genuinely ominous. “Last week we took a beating, but I know we can bounce back strong. Yongie, don’t give me that look. We need everyone to be one their A-game. Eat your nachos and get pumped.” 

“I told you he takes it seriously,” Mark says with a smile. He and Jongin have switched places, Johnny notices, so that Mark is sitting at Ten’s other side, only one person away from Johnny. 

He relaxes, settles in. It helps that Ten and Taeyong are both here, and prove themselves as best friends extraordinaires when they set him up for good jokes and prompt him to tell stories that have the whole table rolling in laughter. Yukhei clasps his huge hands on Johnny’s shoulder multiple times. And despite Johnny’s massive crush on him, he and Mark really are friends with an easy, comfortable dynamic. Johnny feels an innate fondness for him, outside of wanting to make out with him. 

Someone pours him a beer from a pitcher and after that, trivia starts up, and it is so, so on. Johnny had no idea things would be this... viscous. Baekhyun keeps taunting their competition and celebrating a bit _too_ loudly whenever their team scores a point. The other competitors shoot daggers at them with their eyes. 

“He does this every week,” Ten mutters in Johnny’s ear, sounding a bit _too_ fond. 

But all wackiness aside, Johnny finds himself having fun. The contrast between Taemin and Baekhyun’s competitiveness and Yukhei’s utter nonchalance is hilarious, especially because the younger seems to be doing it on purpose. Ten and Taeyong are clearly just along for the ride, while Mark and Jongin try to earnestly help out. As it happens, both Mark and Jongin have very strange, specific areas of knowledge that come in handy. 

Even Johnny is able to contribute as well with his knowledge of Chicago—thank you fifth grade local history unit. Said answer even brings them up to tie for second. 

“Johnny, I could kiss you,” Taemin says very seriously over the table. Mark bursts out laughing and has to hide his face in Jongin’s shoulder to contain himself. 

“Um, appreciate the offer but no thanks.” 

“Anything you want, I’m serious.” 

Johnny just laughs. This whole night has left a warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach, and he hasn’t even felt bad about catching Mark and Jongin’s kisses and touches. “I think I’m just gonna go outside and smoke a joint.” 

“Hold up, I’ll come too,” Mark says suddenly. Before Johnny has time to tell him _no, no, don’t worry about it,_ Mark navigates his way over Jongin’s lap and out of the booth. Johnny is trailing behind him to the door in less than ten seconds.

The fall air outside is cool but comfortable. Johnny is more than comfortable in his jean jacket, but Mark shivers in his t-shirt. 

“Do you....” Johnny gathers himself. Mark has a boyfriend—Johnny is _not_ flirting with him. It’s just a kind gesture between friends. “Do you want my jacket?” 

“Actually?” Mark smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, kind of. Thanks dude.”

It’s dark outside, but the light pollution keeps them from seeing the stars overhead. The only things bright enough to shine through are satellites. The occasional flicker of the lighter adds bursts of a new, warm glow whenever it sparks to life. 

Mark takes a drag, passes it back to Johnny. “Are you having fun though?” 

“I am,” Johnny assures. It’s touching how much everyone seems to be concerned with how much _he’s_ enjoying himself when this is their thing, something he’s just dropping in on. He passes the joint back to Mark. 

“Good. I’m, uh, I’m really happy you came, actually. I like being able to hang out with you more.” 

Johnny raises a brow. “Aw, really Markie? All you had to do was ask.” he can’t help but tease. Surprisingly (but at the same time, also not surprising at all), a rosy blush spreads across Mark’s cheeks. 

“Shut up. I dunno, I thought you were so cool last year but also like—intimidating? It’s kinda stupid now.” 

“What, you’re saying I’m not cool?” 

“You know what I mean!” 

“I know, I know, I’m glad we’re hanging out, too. You’re a dork—”

“Hey!”

“—but you’re a great hang, too.” 

Mark looks down at the compliment, shuffles his feet. Johnny means every word of it, would still mean every word of it if nothing were to ever happen between them. 

“Can you help me with the lighter?” Mark asks. 

“Sure.” Johnny has to lean in close, the joint down to the last few hits, and cups his hand around the warmth of the flame. When Mark exhales the pull he doesn’t move, just tilts his head up to the sky, revealing the long line of his neck, the curve of his Adam's apple. 

Suddenly, Johnny realizes that they’re quite close, and that Mark isn’t moving. What he is doing is looking up at Johnny with eyes as dark as the night around them, mesmerizing in their depth and tinged with a touch of red. One of his hands circles Johnny’s wrist, where it still hovers around Mark’s face. 

Mark’s lips drop open, his eyes flash down for a moment, to lower on Johnny’s face than his eyes. Less than a second. But the break in eye contract is enough. 

Johnny is the first to withdraw. All of a sudden he can’t look at Mark anymore—there’s a turmoil of emotions stirring inside him, and for the first time, he really considers how coming here might have been a terrible idea. It’s masochism to do this to himself. Mark has a _boyfriend,_ one he obviously loves a lot. Hell, Johnny even likes him. And yet he’s out here with Johnny, so close and looking like he desperately wants to be kissed, and Johnny is letting it happen. 

_God,_ Johnny almost _kissed_ him. What the fuck is he _thinking?_

He shouldn’t be letting it happen. 

“Let’s go back inside,” he says, putting a good few feet between them and stamping out the rest of the joint in the ashtray. He doesn’t look back to see if Mark is following him. 

Back at the table, Ten tries to communicate something to him via his eyebrows, but Johnny strikes up a conversation with Yukhei instead. Mark clambers over Jongin’s lap again, and the other reclasps their hands under the table. No one else makes a comment or looks like anything’s unusual. The moment has gone largely unnoticed. 

When Johnny gets home, he takes a long, hot shower, and jerks off to the memory of smoke around Mark’s lips. 

  


-

  


“Johnny! Hey!” The last person Johnny wants to see Thursday morning at the gym, when he’s still stewing in his own misery, is Mark. Fortunately, it’s not Mark, but it’s the _second_ -to-last person, Jongin. He’s wearing a tight workout shirt and that leaves nothing to the imagination, and joggers that make his legs look like a model’s. To be fair, Jongin kind of looks like a model all the time, anyways. 

It’s unfair, actually. Even his sweat makes his golden skin look nicer. 

“Hey,” Johnny manages to not sound too weird. He’s straddling the sit-up bench, and was flipping through his phone trying to find the perfect song for his set when Jongin came up to him. 

“I didn’t get a chance to ask you if you had fun at trivia,” Jongin smiles. Johnny wishes he could hate him, but fuck, he’s so _nice._ And hot. Really, really hot. 

“Yeah, I did,” Johnny says. It’s not entirely a lie. Up until that moment with Mark, he did have a nice time. “It was nice of you guys to invite me.” 

“Are you coming back next week?” 

“Er.” Johnny doesn’t think that’s a good idea, but he has no idea how to say that to Jongin. “Maybe. I might be picking up another shift at work so I have to see.” 

A lame excuse, but it’s better than using frisbee. That would just invite more questions, and Jongin would probably talk to Mark about it, and his lie would be exposed just like that. As it is, Jongin nods along in understanding. 

“Well, consider this a standing invitation. Anytime you’ve got time, our team would love to have you. You’re good, too! Our score needs you.” Jongin gives him a thumbs up. “Hey, when you’re done with your set, will you come spot me? Chanyeol usually does, but he busted his ass and is out of commission for a while. Seriously.” 

“Sure,” Johnny finds himself agreeing. Jongin has beautiful, earnest eyes. Dark, too. It’s not the kind of look you forget. 

  


-

  


_Wanna get acai bowls after the gym? My treat!!_

Yes, ok, Johnny caved and gave Jongin his number. 

_Sorry bro, I just left D:_

_Had to get an early start today_

There’s a long pause before Jongin replies. His _Np!!!_ accompanied byno less than five emojis is innocuous enough, but Johnny can’t help but feel there’s something else going on here. Oh, great, he’s beginning to overthink this too. 

  


-

  


Mark more or less invites himself over for a jam session on the weekend after a spattering of awkward texts, laptop under one arm and guitar under the other. Plus his pearly grin, of course, a little shy but loaded with enthusiasm. 

And Johnny lets him in, not even really thinking about what he’s doing, mind instead caught on the darkness in Mark’s eyes from the bar, the heat of his touch against Johnny’s wrist outside swapping the joint back and forth. It doesn’t occur to him to think that, perhaps, letting Mark into his otherwise empty apartment isn’t good for his own sanity. 

Mark is a little awkward, but none more so than normal. He doesn’t mention trivia night, just instead makes himself cozy on Johnny’s couch—a gift from the Facebook Marketplace, no credit to Mark Zuckerberg—buried in his soft hoodie that’s frayed at cuffs. 

“D’you want something to eat?” Johnny offers as the only excuse he has as to why he’s not joined Mark yet. The younger boy perks up, like a little puppy. As if his older friends aren’t spoiling Mark rotten with food every time they see him. 

“Really? Oh, do you have ramen?” 

Of course Johnny has ramen. “Of course I have ramen,” Johnny scoffs. “Who do you take me for? Spicy or chicken?”

“Spicy, duh.”

“Correct answer.” 

Johnny’s kitchen is not actually a separate room from the living area, so he can still hear everything Mark is up to while preparing the food. They chat idly about things—class, the frisbee team, the new kebab place just off campus—and Mark strums a few chords. Even though he’s brought his guitar, he doesn’t seem to have a goal for today. Sure they might record, because Johnny loves recording Mark no matter what, but there’s nothing that needs to be accomplished. This is just... hanging out. 

You know. Hanging out with your bro. Who you’re definitely not in love with. 

Johnny spends half the time it takes for Mark to scarf down his noodles picking a song to play, and then Mark makes fun of him for choosing Vulfpeck. 

“That’s so... you,” he laughs. 

“Are you calling me pretentious, Mark Lee?” 

Mark smiles into his ramen. “Maybe a little. It’s good though. It uh, it works on you.” 

The flush on his cheeks are just the spicy noodles, Johnny thinks. Mark’s nose is already running from them. There’s no other explanation. 

“Hey, I was thinking about those lyrics you showed me after frisbee the other day,” Mark says when he picks back up his guitar, noodles complete. With wide eyes, he asks, “will you sing them?” 

“Ahhh,” Johnny scratches nervously at the back of his head. Even around Mark, the person he trusts most with his music, he still gets butterflies when it comes to singing. 

“Come on!” Mark begs. “Please? It wouldn’t be the same if I did it.” 

So Johnny sings. It’s low at first, and his voice is nearly drowned-out by the guitar, but after a minute he eases into things better, relaxes into the lyrics that had kept him up three nights in a row. Dark eyes. Two pairs. 

What Mark has written to accompany him is really good, too, and fuck, he can’t wait to work on this song for real. 

“Ugh this is going to be sick,” Mark cheers when Johnny runs out of words. There’s still a bridge to write, and percussion and mixing and so much more to go, but this is the kind of thing that feeds them. Mark eases his guitar onto the floor, and then suddenly, Johnny’s got all of Mark’s earnest attention. “Hey, Johnny,” he says, and—

Mark leans in and kisses him. 

Johnny’s body, unlike his mind, is quick to react to everything he’s wanted, dreamed about, pined for, for months now. He leans into the kiss automatically, even while his brain is still stalling out, white noise filling the space between his ears. 

And then the flip switches back on, and it’s awful. 

He pushes back from Mark in a rush, two hands against his chest, and it’s really not how he’d like to be touching Mark in this spot. But—he can’t. Not like this. “Mark—w-what?” 

“Oh my god,” Mark’s eyes are wide with horror, no doubt realizing he’d just _cheated_ on his boyfriend, who Mark probably loves very much, despite this terrible mistake “I misread this, didn’t I?” 

“I—no,” Johnny says, too caught off guard to even lie. “But. Jongin.” 

“Oh my _god,”_ Mark says again. “I thought he was going to _talk_ to you. I thought he did. This is so embarrassing, holy shit. I may die.” 

“Um. Don’t?” Johnny says. “That would be really awful. Please don’t die.” 

“Ok,” Mark laughs, a touch hysteric. Cautiously, he places his hands on Johnny’s forearms, like he’s afraid Johnny is about to run or teleport from the room or something. “Fuck, I guess we have to talk now, don’t we? I’m not great at doing the talking.”

“I am really, really fucking confused right now,” Johnny admits 

Mark tosses his head back and groans again. “Ugh! This was so not supposed to go like this.” 

“We’ve... been talking about it a lot. Jongin and I. Uh, wow, this is way more awkward than I thought it would be. Ok. We’ve been talking about opening up our relationship—just a little bit! That’s where you come in. Maybe. If you want to.” Mark’s face is scarlet. If Johnny weren’t experiencing serious system-overload, maybe he would reach over and trace his thumb over his cheekbone to try and comfort him. 

“Is.... everything ok with you two?” Johnny asks cautiously. It’s thin ice, and he has no idea where the safe-footing is. 

“Oh yeah, don’t worry,” Mark says quickly. “We’re awesome. It’s because we’re so secure we’re doing this.” He scratches at the back of his head, a nervous tick. “It’s not like we’re going wild or anything. Um. You’re maybe—you’re the first person we’ve approached. I’m sorry for just jumping you like that, I really thought Jongin talked to you earlier.” 

“We just missed each other,” Johnny says. “Ok so—what does this mean, I guess? You gotta be honest about what you want, Markie.” 

“I can’t promise long term. I can’t promise serious.” Mark certainly looks serious right now. “But I want this,” he shakes their linked-together hands. “And you’re like, one of my best friends, so I want that, too. And I also really, really want you to fuck me.” 

It’s not the fairytale Johnny ever imagined for them. But fuck if it isn’t a proposal that sounds sugar-sweet. 

“We can figure it out,” Johnny breathes. And this time, now, _finally_ he reaches out and touches Mark, just above his brow bone, across his lovely cheek and into the soft strands of hair by his red ear. Mark doesn’t hesitate—he’s always been decisive when it comes down to it—just leans all the way into Johnny until their chest to chest, his pretty lips right there for Johnny to kiss. 

So he does. 

It just encourages Mark more, who now well and truly wraps himself around Johnny like an adorable baby koala, but also not like one at all because Mark is painfully hot and yes—hard. That’s Mark’s hard dick that Johnny feels rubbing against his leg.

“Oh my god, you’re so hot,” Mark groans. He can’t seem to keep his hands off Johnny, running his hands up and down Johnny’s shoulders and chest, the curve of his muscles. “You have no idea how long I’ve been staring at you wanting to touch.” 

“You can all you want,” Johnny tells him. Mark could do whatever he wanted, at this point. Just having him here in Johnny’s lap is a dream. 

It’s a little awkward on the couch, but the thought of getting up and moving, even the short distance to Johnny’s bedroom, and his bed, is unbearable. Mark, too, doesn’t seem to have any intention of moving. He’s taking out a mortgage on Johnny’s lap. 

For a horrible moment, Johnny thinks the moment has been ruined when Mark’s phone roars to life in his jeans pocket. 

“It’s Jongin,” Mark announces when he glances at the caller-ID. “Should I answer?” It’s a genuine question, but there’s also something playful in his eyes, like this could lead to something very good for Johnny indeed. Besides, it feels weird to tell Mark not to answer his own boyfriend. 

He nods. “Go for it.” 

“Hey honey, you’re on speaker.” 

_“Hi baby,”_ comes Jongin’s voice. _“Are you—wait, shit—are you with Johnny?”_

Mark giggles, and Johnny can’t help himself when he snorts. Damn, Jongin probably heard that. “Yeah, don’t worry. We uh—we figured it out.” 

_“I’m sorry baby,”_ Jongin groans. God, they really do make a pair, don’t they? _“I told you I would, but I—”_

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it. I told you we figured things out, didn’t I?” 

_“Oh. So he’s—”_

“Johnny,” Mark shoves his phone into Johnny’s hand. Hands free himself, he pushes Johnny’s shirt up to his armpits and leans down. “Why don’t you talk to Jongin?” Then, he attaches himself to Johnny’s nipple. 

“Hey Jongin, _oh,_ what’s up? _Fuck.”_ Smooth one, dude.

 _“Mark? Johnny?”_ Johnny can’t help but moan—loudly—when Mark rolls Johnny’s other nipple between his thumb and forefinger as his tongue works tiny circles around the other sensitive nub. _“Fuck baby, I’m at the grocery store right now.”_

“Sounds like a you problem,” Mark says devilishly, coming off of Johnny’s nipple with a lewd _pop_. 

“Fuck, you should see him right now,” Johnny mumbles. The whole situation is a little weird, but clearly, Mark and Jongin are into this kind of thing, and the longer this goes on, the more it’s appealing to Johnny, too. 

_“Show me, please.”_

“Shit, ok. Mark, just like that.” Mark’s mouth is still wet and red, and he looks absolutely perfect on Johnny’s lap, especially when he places his thumb on Mark’s bottom lip to hold it open just so. Jongin swears when he receives it. 

Mark smiles, so pleased. 

_“Oh my god. Can I—can I come over? Wait, I mean, we haven’t even talked about this, what am I even saying? All I know is that right now I’m hard as fuck in the cereal aisle, but if you’re not cool with that—”_

“Yeah, come over,” Johnny says. It’s completely endearing that both Mark and Jongin have the habit of overcompensating for someone else’s comfort-level. He wonders how much time each day is spent apologizing to each other. 

Wait, is this what good communication is like? Maybe he should try it sometime. 

“We’ll be here,” Mark chirps. “Bye honey.” 

_“See you soon baby.”_

They’re just killing time until Jongin shows up, and then who knows what will happen, but Mark is determined not to waste a second. He goes to work pulling off as many of Johnny’s clothes as he can get to, eventually leaving him in his boxers and socks. And then of course, Johnny needs to return the favor. 

Johnny’s seen Mark in his underwear before, but a glance in the locker room is a far cry from having Mark on his lap, their lips pressed together, slick and glossy. 

Just below Mark’s collarbone is a red hickey, only a day old from the appearance. Johnny licks over it, and yeah, it’s still sensitive from how Mark jumps at the contact. So Johnny does it again, and harder, adding the scrape of his own teeth. 

“I knew you’d be competitive,” Mark says breathlessly. His hands tangle in Johnny’s hair. 

“You like that, huh, being the center of attention?” Johnny doesn’t need to see Mark’s face to know he’s blushing, and that Johnny is right on the money, because as he learns, Mark’s flush starts at his navel and goes up. 

It feels like five minutes, but has to have been longer than that, because one second they’re making out and the next they hear rapid pounding on Johnny’s door. 

It’s Jongin. He’s panting. 

Behind Johnny, Mark bursts out laughing. “Dude,” he can barely get out, “did you just run here?” 

Jongin chooses to ignore this. The answer is obvious, anyways. “Hi Johnny,” he says softly, perfectly nice like all the other times Johnny has seen him, and not at all like Johnny is in his underwear with Jongin’s own boyfriend, wearing said boyfriend’s hickies on his chest. “I don’t think Mark is naked enough, do you?” 

In fact, Johnny agrees. “Hey,” he greets, as casual as possible. “Want the tour? I’ll show you the bedroom first.” 

Jongin grins slyly. “Cool.” 

Mark is up in seconds, beating them both to Johnny’s bedroom. By the time both Jongin and Johnny enter, Mark is already kneeling on the bed, a dark spot forming on his gray briefs. 

“Markie,” Johnny coos, like he’s teasing Mark at practice instead of in the bedroom. He’s heard Jongin tease Mark like this (actually, everyone teases Mark like this), and it feels right on his tongue. His intuition is correct—Mark reacts by flushing a deeper red. 

“You’re looking pretty desperate there baby,” Jongin says, getting down to his undershirt and sweats. The hard line of his cock is clearly visible through the thin material. 

“I am,” Mark says shamelessly. “C’mere, both of you.” 

A little shrug from Jongin is all the encouragement Johnny needs. He kneels in front of Mark, and Jongin slides in behind him. Now he truly _is_ the center. 

Kissing Mark while Jongin is watching is an entirely new level. Fuck, it actually makes Johnny’s cock twitch in his underwear, and when he dares to glance up and finds Jongin staring at him, he can _feel_ the precum spurt from his slit. 

It’s those eyes. Those dark eyes, again. 

“I—” Mark, somehow, flushes two shades deeper. “I really want to see you guys kiss.” 

At first, this sounded like something he’d just be doing with Mark, but Johnny is in no way opposed to kissing a hot man, Jongin particularly. And from the way he’s staring at Johnny with those fucking _eyes_ , Jongin probably feels the same. So Johnny just cups a hand around Jongin’s neck, and the other naturally bends into the kiss. 

“I knew Mark would want you as soon as I saw you in the weight room,” Jongin says against his lips. Beside them, Mark makes a tiny _meep_ noise. “He’s got a type—” Jongin’s hand runs across Johnny’s abdomen, the lines of his abs. “As you’ve probably guessed.” 

Johnny _has_ guessed that Mark is particularly into built guys, and he should have guessed earlier, considering Mark is always hanging off Jongin’s bicep. But instead of answering, he just pulls Jongin in closer, because this is not an opportunity that should go to waste. Jongin is an amazing kisser—those pillowy lips feel just as good as they look. 

And it’s obvious that Mark is enjoying the show, because he honest-to-god moans just from watching. 

“You have no idea how hot you look together,” he says. Jongin breaks off the kiss with a laugh; figures that he would be the type to _laugh_ during sex. He and Mark probably both are. 

Jongin tugs at Mark. “Would be even better with you in between us, c’mere.” 

Watching Jongin and Mark kiss is not a new sight to Johnny, but he’s caught off guard by how deep his arousal runs when he watches them together now that he can rest in hands on Mark’s hips, their thighs pressed together. 

Mark faces Jongin, his back to Johnny now, and it’s a strange angle to kiss, but better for Johnny to watch the way Jongin teases Mark with his tongue, kisses him wet and dirty without an ounce of shame. And then Mark is twisting his body to kiss Johnny, too, tasting like both himself and Jongin at once. 

That taste—it’s addicting. 

“Want Johnny to fuck me,” Mark says. He looks into Johnny’s eyes while he does it. The three of them are really pressed together now—Mark sitting in both their laps, Jongin and Johnny’s knees bumping with every tiny moment. That also means he can _feel_ Jongin’s reaction to the suggestion, and it’s not bad at all. 

“Whatever baby wants,” he says. He locks eyes with Johnny over Mark’s shoulder, where he’s putting down a wet line of kisses. “Do you wanna fuck him, Johnny?” 

“Of course he does,” Mark says under his breath, petulant. 

“Yeah—” Johnny groans. “Yeah, fuck, I do.” 

“Good.” Jongin pushes them together, and Mark eagerly laps his way into Johnny’s mouth. “Stay right there.” He moves off the bed, but returns quickly to his spot at Mark’s back. Johnny barely has time to think about where he’s gone before Mark is crying out into his mouth, body arching and shivering. 

_Oh,_ a finger. Johnny has Mark in his lap, Jongin fingering him from behind. 

“I’ve seen his dick, baby,” Jongin says into Mark’s ear, loud enough for them all to hear. “It’s big. Gonna need to stretch you out good.” 

“Ah, more,” Mark demands. 

“Keep him distracted,” Jongin tells Johnny, a twinkle in his eye. Johnny is having trouble staying focused himself, not with the heat of Mark’s body pressing insistently against him, everywhere. It’s one thing to be making out with Mark, it’s another entirely to have him like this, tongues swirling as Mark rocks back on Jongin’s fingers. 

_“More,”_ Mark whines. “No—both. Both, please.” 

Johnny knows what he wants. He slides his hand down the swell of Mark’s ass to where Jongin’s fingers already are, finger finding its way through the mess of lube and sweat. They’re two fingers already stretching Mark out, but Johnny slides in on his own beside them, stretching Mark even more. It’s easy enough following Jongin’s rhythm, easier still with the soundtrack of moans and gasps Mark provides. 

If Mark was being loud with two fingers stretching him out, it’s nothing compared to how desperate he gets with three. Johnny does his best to swallow them all with his kisses. Mark’s blunt nails dig into his chest while he whines. 

“So good baby,” Jongin says, kissing across Mark’s shoulder. “Isn’t he so good, Johnny?” 

“Fuck, yeah,” Johnny groans. The feeling of Mark clenched around his finger feels heavenly. It feels dirty, talking over Mark like this, but that’s probably also how he likes it, the burn of humiliation feeling just as good as the stretch of cock. 

“It’ll be even better inside him,” Jongin promises. 

Johnny lets Jongin decide when Mark is ready, because if Mark had his way, he’d already be well on his way to getting fucked through the mattress, and Johnny doesn’t trust himself to be patient, not after so long. It’s surprising, though, when Jongin withdraws and gets off the bed entirely. 

All he does is press a small bottle of lube and a condom into Johnny’s hand before settling down in Johnny’s desk chair at the foot of the bed, underwear pulled down and hand loosely fisting himself. Even Jongin’s cock is gorgeous, of course. Not as thick as Johnny, but long with a prominent vein. 

“Johnny,” he says, voice curling and floating, “I want to watch while you fuck my boyfriend.” 

This must be one of the things he and Mark talked about—not just about them seeing more people, but sharing them. Jongin _watching._ Not only does Mark want Johnny to fuck him, but he wants Jongin to watch it happen. It coils in Johnny’s gut, an arousal so strong it’s nearly debilitating. To not just have Mark, but to have him right under his own boyfriend’s lustful gaze. 

“Hey,” Mark mewls, pawing at Johnny to wrestle back his attention. “You’re kissing me, remember?” 

“Hmmm, really?” Johnny does give in, kisses him chastely. “Is that all you want? For me just to kiss you.” 

“No,” Mark blushes. For just a moment, his eyes flicker to Jongin.

“Tell him what you want baby,” Jongin encourages. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Mark says, looking Johnny dead in the eyes as he says it, because this whole thing is actually a ploy to strike Johnny down, dead. But saying it out loud seems to give Mark the confidence he needs to keep going. “I want you to put me on my hands and knees and fuck me so hard I feel it for weeks.” 

“Oh my god, Mark—” Johnny chokes. It would be _beyond_ unfortunate for Johnny to swallow his own tongue and choke right now. “You can’t just say shit like that.” 

“But Johnny,” Mark pouts. “It makes you hard.” 

In disbelief, Johnny laughs. Already Mark and Jongin are rubbing off on him. “Ok, brat, I see how it is.” Before Mark can prepare himself, Johnny gets his hands around his smaller waist and flips him around onto his stomach. With a forearm pressed solidly against his back, Mark’s pinned to the bed, where Johnny can do anything he wants to him. 

“Mmmh, fuck,” Mark moans. 

“He likes that,” Jongin says. “Being tossed around.” 

That’s not surprising. Mark doesn’t push against Johnny’s hold on him, instead lays pliantly with his face pressed into the sheets. Johnny folds over him and nips and the back of his neck, his shoulders. When he does, his cock brushes against the swell of Mark’s ass. A terrible tease. 

“Is my big cock going to fit in your little hole, Markie?” Mark moans something into the cotton. “C’mon, let me hear you. Let Jongin hear you.”

“It will!” Mark says brokenly. “Please, Johnny, I need it. Don’t you want it?” 

Johnny rubs circles into Mark’s lower back. “Ok, ok, I won’t keep us waiting any longer.” He’s got half a mind to tease Mark longer, to drag this out as long as he can, but Mark’s not the only one being driven to the edge here. Johnny could cum on the anticipation alone. So he tugs Mark up onto his knees properly and rubs the head of his cock against his rim. 

It’s better than Jongin said. Sliding into Mark is the best experience of his life, bar none. God, if this is the only thing that ever happens between them, it’s so worth it. It’s everything—from the tight ring of muscle pulling him in, to the whimpers of _so full Johnny_ coming from Mark, to the long, slow exhale of Jongin off to the side. 

This is all of Johnny’s fantasies in one, plus things he couldn’t even _dream_ of but he’s so thankful to have. 

But Mark asked him to fuck him like he means it, and Johnny isn’t here to disappoint. He gives Mark a minute to get used to the stretch, but as soon as Mark begins to get antsy again, Johnny doesn’t give him time to adjust. 

He pulls all the way out, until the head of his cock catches on Mark’s rim. And then he pushes back in all the way, sharp and hard, gripping Mark’s hips so he can’t run away from it. 

Mark cries out immediately, and in the same breath, begs for more. “Fu—uck, again. Please.” 

And Johnny does do it again, setting a punishing pace that has Mark’s toes curling and his thighs shaking. 

“You’re such a good slut, aren’t you baby,” Jongin says, sweet and cruel. “You like getting your hole pounded by another guy, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Mark chokes out. His hands are screwed tight into the sheets, as if it’s all he can do to hold on. Johnny’s not even hitting his prostate yet—on purpose. Mark always feels things so powerfully. 

“That’s right.” Johnny gropes at Mark’s ass. With encouragement from Jongin, he brings one hand down hard and marvels at how Mark’s cute butt lights up red so quickly. 

Between his legs, Mark’s cock drips onto the sheets. Right now, his hips are jerking into nothing. He really is so good—he hasn’t tried to touch himself once. 

To change that, Johnny puts more of his weight down on Mark, forcing him all the way onto his stomach, and until the feeling of the sheets against his skin is everywhere. 

Johnny grunts in his ear with every thrust, and it gets Mark going even more. The noises fall from his lips without pause now. Of course Mark would be loud in bed, _of course._ He already can’t contain himself when he’s excited, only now instead of giggling, every breath is a new note of pleasure. 

The pace slows but he doesn’t give Mark and reprieve, as now he _finally_ grinds up and hits that tender spot inside Mark, that bundle of nerves that has Mark moaning brokenly. With his head tilted to the side, Johnny can kiss along his jaw, his flushed cheeks. 

“Don’t stop,” he breathes out. “Want it rough.” 

God, fuck—Mark is insane. As if what Johnny was giving him wasn’t rough already. In a display of strength he knows will get Mark’s cock dripping, Johnny pulls them both up and turns them around again, so that they’re both kneeling on the bed, Mark’s back to Johnny’s chest with Mark sitting back in his lap. 

It gives Jongin the best view he’s had all night, Mark open and bare to him, and gives Mark and Johnny the added bonus of being able to see every one of Jongin’s reactions. In his fist, Jongin’s dick is red and weeping, and sweat glistens across the top of his thighs. Fuck, it looks good. Johnny wants to put his face right there. 

“Nini—” Mark chokes out. 

“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking pretty bouncing on his cock,” Jongin breathes, sounding fucked-out himself.

But it’s like Johnny can forget about Mark, though, hanging so prettily on his dick. One hand grips Mark’s hip—there will be bruises tomorrow, and he bets Mark likes to poke at them—and his other forearm he loops around Mark’s neck. 

“Say you want it,” Johnny tells him, low but clear. For this, he needs confirmation. Mark nods frantically, and Jongin’s mouth falls open in a tiny ‘o’ with pupils blown wide. “Say it, Markie.” 

“Oh my god Johnny, please choke me out. Please, please, ple—” 

As soon as he constricts his arm Mark falls silent, his head falling back in the kind of wordless pleasure that’s beyond words, beyond sound, and that shows Johnny it’s only a matter of time until he spills over. He pounds into Mark as hard and fast as he can with the angle, which is perfect for hitting Mark’s now abused prostate every time. 

“Can he cum untouched?” Johnny asks. Of all things, Mark shudders to being spoken over, like he’s just a toy for Johnny to use, like he’s just going to do whatever he wants regardless of what Mark wants. Johnny can see his cock leak because of it. 

“Y-yeah,” Jongin says with a tremble. “Baby, are you going to be good? You’ve been good all night.”

Mark can only respond with tiny, punched-out noises. 

Johnny’s paying attention, not even to his own pleasure, but so closely to Mark’s body—the frantic fluttering of his heartbeat, the spasming on his body around his cock, the cadence of his tiny, choked breathes. And he tightens, tightens, his arm, until—

He lets go, and all at once, Mark cums as everything comes back to him. 

He sags in Johnny’s arm, but he’s there to catch him even as he pulls out of Mark. He looks up at Johnny with a dazed, utterly fucked look on his face. With purpose, he drops open his mouth. 

The euphoria of striping off the condom is nearly enough to make Johnny cum on the spot. He doesn’t, and thankfully so, because Johnny has Mark, sweaty and _wrecked,_ to jerk off onto. Mark looks even prettier with cum dripping down his lips. 

Johnny doesn’t know what possesses him—maybe it’s the sight of Mark splayed out boneless on the bed, maybe it's his post-orgasm glow clouding his impulse control, but his body moves on its own to roll off the bed and position himself in front of Jongin’s dick, hard and weeping and looking just as delicious as earlier. 

“Oh,” Jongin gasps, like the air’s been sucked out of him as soon as Johnny gets his lips around his fat head. Jongin smells so good, like a man, like sweat, and the thought of doing this together in the gym locker room post-workout is enough to mark Johnny’s own cock twitch again with interest. “Johnny, you don’t—oh my god.” 

_But I want to,_ Johnny doesn’t say. Instead, he proves it by working Jongin’s cock deeper into his throat. It’s been a minute since he’s deepthroated someone, been a while since anything beyond a blowjob that was mostly a handjob, but the muscle memory from sucking off plenty of closested frat boys freshman year comes back quickly enough. 

Under his skin, Jongin’s perfect ab muscles ripple with effort and he jerks his his up with no coordination, no kind of usual finesse. It’s just Jongin, so painfully hard, getting off in Johnny’s mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck, Johnny, your mouth, _please.”_

Jongin comes down his throat, having already been pushed to the edge, and Johnny swallows because he’s good like that. 

In the moment of tranquility that follows, the three of them panting into the otherwise quiet room, Mark has the audacity to say, “so we’re doing that again, right?” 

  


-

  


_Coda_

  


_Upstairs bathroom. Third on the right._

Mark’s text hadn’t been specific on the time of his request, so Johnny essentially abandons Taeyong in the middle of their conversation to find his way to the staircase. He’s being obvious. So what. 

Awkwardly, someone is standing outside waiting in line, leaned against the wall scrolling through their phone. Johnny coughs. 

“Hey man. You might wanna find the one downstairs,” he says. “This one’s going to be—uh—occupied for a while.” 

The guy looks Johnny head to toe with a languid gaze. “Huh, alright then,” he says. “Thanks for the heads up.” 

“Oh my god, you took forever,” Mark complains once Johnny is inside the bathroom and the door safely locked. He’s perched up on the sink counter, Jongin between the open v of his legs, leaning casually against the granite. Who is he kidding—that’s definitely laminate. 

“I literally came straight here,” Johnny retorts. Mark reaches over and pulls Johnny in by his t-shirt. As the younger rises, Johnny leans down to meet him in a kiss. Mark tastes like bad cherry flavouring. 

“What have you had to drink tonight?” Johnny laughs. “You taste like a hawaiian pizza.” 

“Fun stuff,” Mark licks his lips. “Baekhyun made me something _fun.”_

“He’s a little trashed,” Jongin says, entirely fond. He’s holding onto Mark’s fingers in the sweetest way. He greets Johnny with a kiss of his own. He tastes far, far better. 

“Just a little,” the boy in question says. 

“Just a little,” Jongin agrees. 

“Got a plan?” Johnny runs his hand through Mark’s hair. It’s something he likes to pretend he hates, but in actuality, he reacts to this kind of touch like a pleased cat. 

“So much. I want so much,” Mark groans; his enthusiasm for threesomes knows no bounds. “Like, maybe for you both to cum on me in the shower?” 

The thought of that alone makes Johnny _dizzy_ with want, but—

“Baby,” Jongin says, tone full of reason. “We’re at a party in a bathroom.” 

“I mean. Ok. Fair. But if someone doesn’t come kiss me right now, imma be upset.” 

“So needy tonight,” Jongin says as his hand wanders up Mark’s thighs, up closer and closer to the tenting in his jeans. With a little nod of his head, Jongin gestures for Johnny to go ahead.

Mark tastes perfect the second time. 

  


  


  


**Author's Note:**

> *A major theme throughout this fic is that Johnny has a Big Fat Crush on Mark, who already has a boyfriend in Jongin. At one point in the fic, Johnny and Mark find themselves in a compromising position that while nothing happens, is close to what people would consider cheating. BUT Jongin and Mark have already talked about opening up their relationship at this point. However, there is inner-turmoil and miscommunication because Johnny doesn’t know this. Repeat: **there is no infidelity in this fic.**
> 
> I can't believe I actually wrote this. For all five people interested in this cross-section, shout out to you. As always, if you enjoyed, I'd love to read your comments. Love you all. 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/themunchking1) | [CC](https://curiouscat.me/themunchking)


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